Olympic Gold Medalist Alysa Liu: Key Philosophies And Approach To Achievement 

Alysa Liu’s return to competition was not about chasing trophies, as it was about rediscovering joy. Starting with a handful of smaller pro-am events and gradually building confidence, she began to enjoy skating again on her own terms. Within a year of deciding to skate competitively again, she captured the 2025 World Figure Skating Championships title, becoming the first American woman to do so since 2006.

Then, at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan, Alysa made history again by winning Olympic gold in women’s singles, ending a 24-year U.S. gold drought in the event. Her performance, set to a lively free skate, embodied the evolution of her mentality: technical brilliance expressed through joy and freedom.

This arc, from child prodigy to burned-out teen, to joyful champion, forms the backbone of her unique philosophy on achievement.

One of Alysa’s most memorable lines, “struggle makes me feel alive,” reveals how she reframes pressure. Rather than dread competition, she treats it as a space where she feels most present. This isn’t denial of nerves, but a deliberate choice to feel energized by challenge rather than weighed down by it. She has also said she feels “the least stressed during competition”, a testament to her reframed relationship with pressure that prioritizes presence

Perhaps the most radical shift in Alysa’s approach is her detachment from outcome. She’s stated openly that winning and losing don’t define her, and that she skates simply because she loves to skate. This perspective, which appears rare at elite levels,  frees her from the paralysis of fear and allows her artistry and athleticism to shine. Her joy shows in how she moves, how she choreographs programs, and in the genuine smiles she carries into competition.

Alysa’s story isn’t just about medals, either, as it’s about identity. She took ownership of her career, from selecting her music to designing her programs, and reclaimed skating on her own terms rather than fulfilling someone else’s vision. In interviews about her comeback, she made it clear that her return would only happen with conditions she controlled, including her training schedule, creative input, and even her diet, famously saying, “No one’s going to starve me or tell me what I can and can’t eat.” This emphasis on creative control and respect for her own mental and physical well‑being has allowed her to thrive where sheer talent alone might have wilted.

Her journey challenges the conventional athlete narrative that success must be painful to be meaningful. Instead, Alysa shows that joy, authenticity, and self‑defined purpose can fuel greatness as much as, if not more than, pressure and perfectionism.